


Bed Hog

by Impalababycakes



Series: Destiel Mini Fics [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Cranky Dean, Crushing, Cuddles, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, No established relationship, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalababycakes/pseuds/Impalababycakes
Summary: Dean is sleeping and Castiel is watching at the door, but looking over the peaceful human as he sleeps, Castiel decides to invite himself into the Winchester’s bed and see what’s so great about this sleep business.Dean ends up waking up to a heavy set of feathers on his face and gets cranky, he didn’t appreciate the angel hogging his bed but Castiel will change his mind.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Castiel
Series: Destiel Mini Fics [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560562
Comments: 1
Kudos: 77





	Bed Hog

In the middle of the night, all was quiet in the bunker, aside from the rumbling generator, creaky wooden floors, and the leaky kitchen faucet.

Away from there, down the long hallway—was Dean's room—door open a few inches, just enough to keep the air circulating.

The ticking of the wall clock could barely be heard over the Winchester's snoring, but once the big hand and the little hand meet at 1 AM, Dean violently tossed his body and ripped the blanket off.

He had a pillow to cushion his head and a thick comforter to shield him from the icy cold draft.

That did not differ from any other cold winter's night, except Dean's nose wasn't runny or cold at the tip...

Dean rubs his cheek into the feather pillows, grunting and groaning before finally opening his eyes a crack, only to be greeted by a pitch-black room, and something heavy on his face.

Dean sighed, then reached up to scratch his jaw. He tried pushing whatever this was off of him, then felt the softness of feathers.

_How did the feathers get outside the pillow?_ Was Dean's initial thought, followed by Since when are feathers black? _What, is the cushion stuffed with crows?_

Dean's daring, enticed by the unknown, so naturally, when you encounter something out of ordinary, you measure its consistency. 

The Winchester extends his arm out to where it's over the edge of the bed, and in the open air, a single finger running across the ends of the ashy black array.

He began stroking a single feather with the tips of his fingers, pinching it between his thumb and index, now Dean's quite fond of the softness that brushes his cheek.

Hidden between the cracks—in each branch of feathers, is a pulsing blue light that gets a bit brighter the longer Dean's touch, until they developed a mind of their own and shy away from him—shaking like a leaf in the wind.

They were at a weight that's accommodating for the Winchester, that is... until they were not.

_Heavy, HEAVY_! Panic disrupts a doting Dean.

Dean held his breath, the heavy set now suffocating him. He wiggled out from underneath and exhaled sharply, catching his breath.

"What the hell?!"

Dead heaved, shoving the blankets further away from him to the other side of the bed—that's when he bumped a kneecap with the back of his wrist and winced after the impact. 

"Shit! Argh..." Dean rubs the soon to be bruised skin, hissing at the protrusion under the covers. 

_What a strange place for a leg to be_. He thinks, still left in a delirious state of mind, having just woken up. _How did it get all the way over there?_

Dean bends to feel for both of his legs, seeing they're still attached was a relief, good to know nobody dismembered him in his sleep.

But if he had both of his walking stilts, that still raised the question—whose leg was under the cover?

He poked at it before lifting the blanket for a closer examination, bleary vision and dumb egg brain can only process the outline. It's still too early.

So he glides his touch up the kneecap and leg, until he meets the inner thigh and a lump that's clad in a pair of slacks.

But once his eyes catch onto the color of the chestnut trench coat, Dean has an epiphany.

"Cas." Dean lets his name slip off his tongue, surprised, but relieved It's someone familiar.

He smiled, gently brushing Castiel's cheek with the back of his knuckles, he didn't snore, not a sound emits from the angel, there's something significant about that. 

So strange to see an angel sleeping, Dean thought all this time angels didn't sleep, yet here Castiel was curled up in the blanket, black wings spanning across the entire bed, no longer room for the Winchester to rest his weary head.

"Dean?" Castiel's neck shrank into his shoulders when he stretched, then scrunched up his eyebrows, pouts, and moans, not having opened his eyes yet when he felt the grip on his thigh.

"Since when do you sleep?" Dean snorts, flicking the wrinkles Castiel made with his forehead.

Castiel sank deeper into the sheets, trying to get away from Dean's finger that still wants to flick him.

"Tonight, as I watched over you, you seemed so relaxed, opposed to your regular behavior that often comprises of—...excessive drinking and aggression."

Castiel waited for Dean to stop teasing with his finger and sits up, adjusting himself. "You were at peace. I wanted to try that."

"’Make it sound like I died." Dean rolls his eyes and pats Castiel's shoulder to push him down into the comforter again. "And you've slept before when you were human, sometimes as your full _celestial_ self— so..."

"With you, I wanted to try sleeping with you." Castiel cuts in.

"Oh..." Dean can feel the warm feeling bubbling to life in his chest like lava, and he can't avert his eyes from that soft gaze Castiel has on him.

"I don't know, Cas." Dean shakes his head.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean..." Dean mimes (putting on an invisible cowboy hat and tipping the edge towards Castiel, then fake smokes a cigarette). "This bed ain't big enough for the both of us." Dean replied, with his best Nick Grindell impression.

There are a few minutes of silence between the two of them. Dean sat awkwardly on the bed, his legs crossed.

Castiel looked unamused—angrily flapping his wings before smacking Dean in the face by accident—amid his frustration.

“Ah!"

Dean rubs his cheek and shoves Castiel then Castiel counters by shoving Dean harder onto his back.

"Cas, h-hey now, easy." Dean's voice cracks, losing his breath when the angel elbows him in the chest.

"I reckon that needs to change." Castiel shoots back, leaning in, till their foreheads and hips are pressing into each other.

  
These two watched way too many cowboy movies together...

Dean reached up to tug on the back of Castiel's hair to get him off, but he won't budge that easy.

"Yeah? You try hiking a bed down those stairs, friggin' nightmare, plus you got your own room, don't need mine." Dean glares.

"Also in comparison to your snoring and a lawnmower, I rather sleep with a lawnmower," Castiel adds.

"Good, 'something we can agree on, go back to your room, and take your flappers with you, let a guy sleep."

Dean pushes on Castiel's shoulders to make him fall back against the sheets, and rolls on his side, shoving Castiel's wing off his pillow.

"Run along, angel." Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and resting his eyes, he couldn't help being cranky. It's too early to discuss sleeping arrangements.

...

Soon the room is silent, Dean can only hear the ticking of the wall clock above him, a whole bed to himself again.

But the supposedly happy Dean Winchester was instead saddened by the quiet absence.

He twists himself around to see an empty spot next to him, he couldn't help the bad feeling in his stomach, that regret of pushing the angel away.

He thinks _Bad move, Dean._ Now he had to sleep alone, but he's used to sleeping alone, so why is that a bad thing now?...

Dean curls up into a ball, feeling a chill and forgetting he has a blanket conveniently behind him, instead he roughs it.

The hunter tries to get comfortable, propping his head up with his hand, then finds a soft place in the sheets for the rest of his limbs, getting in his superman pose.

...

Two soft hands form and pull on his neck, making Dean's back arch and hips slide across the sheets.

His words are silenced before they even begin, chapped lips pressing into his, Dean's eyes shoot open while his back sinks into Castiel's chest.

Dean's not sure his neck is supposed to bend _that_ far back, but Castiel is so gentle with him, he'd never let it hurt.

"Cas..." Dean lets out, half breathless and flushed red.

"I found a solution to our problem." Castiel pauses, Dean takes that pause as his cue to lick his lips, keeping them moisturized from the dry air around them, then nods, signaling Castiel to continue.

"This mattress is approximately 38 inches wide, and 75 inches long, It's designed to sleep one. If two are on the mattress at the same time and they get very close, chest to chest, the space they take up together is equal to one, sufficiently." 

Dean runs his fingers up his neck to take Castiel's hands off and flips himself around, tangling their legs. "Can't even say 'let's cuddle' like a normal person, instead you gotta turn it into a freakin' math equation."

"Love my nerd angel." Dean kisses him this time, gripping his hips to get Castiel closer until there's no space between them.

Castiel leans his head into the pillow, a small smile curling on his lips, he's also moving his head so he can get some _tongue action_ from the very daring Dean Winchester. 

Castiel parts his lips, welcoming in Dean's tongue as it shoves his to the far back of his throat, wanting to take possession of Castiel's mouth all for itself, almost too sweet to resist that warm invitation.

"Mm." Dean softly moaned into the kiss, touch traveling up to Castiel's jaw and claws the stubble with his fingertips.

This kiss wasn't supposed to happen, Dean's left uncertain if he's dreaming about it or not, but he hopes it is a dream, because he'll feel guilty in the morning if it’s not. 

Dean pulls away, swallowing nervously and crouches down to lay his cheek into the angel's chest, nuzzling the spot.

"Dean?"

"Alright, proved me wrong, guess it's big enough...Still a bed hog." Dean smiles into Castiel's dress shirt and chuckles. "Now can we please..." Dean's eyes suddenly feel heavy. "sleeeee..." Dean's voice trails as he dozes off.

Castiel lets his wing sneak under Dean's shoulder and the other falls gently on his knee, arm resting on his lap and gets a closer look at how Dean positioned them both, all cozy between his thighs.

The beautiful boy curled up in his arms softly snores and smiles amid sleep, Castiel rests his chin atop his head and caresses his back, he's not sure he'll sleep at all, but right here is enough to lull him into the night.


End file.
